The images and Mack's words set the internet buzzing, catalysing thousands of discussions on social media about domestic violence. Arguably, her incredible bravery in coming forward to share her experience has created more awareness and conversation around the issue than many of the targeted campaigns designed to do just that.

Making the revelations came at significant personal cost: after Mack posted her tweet, many Twitter users responded, blaming her for what happened. Why? Because of her job. Mack works as a pornographic actor. As such, she has been subject to vitriolic and abusive victim-blaming.

The issue of using real images of domestic abuse to spark public awareness is complex. An obvious and important distinction between these cases is that Mack chose to put the information about her assault in the public domain, whereas the Rihanna image was leaked and the photograph of Lawson was taken without her knowledge. When the pictures of Saatchi and Lawson were published, British journalist Helen Lewis discussed the difficulty of weighing up the public interest of reporting a crime versus the suggestion that it might constitute a breach of the victim's privacy.

To praise the bravery of survivors such as Mack who choose to share their story and raise awareness is not to suggest that those who retain their anonymity are somehow cowardly. As Ruth Glenn, head of the US-based National Coalition Against Domestic Violence told Time magazine, there are also other issues to consider: "I would hope that anyone who is experiencing violence would be careful, because it does expose them to anything from victim-blaming to escalation of violence from their perpetrator."

Referring to the recent rise in domestic violence victims (both celebrities and non-celebrities) sharing images of their injuries on social media, Glenn told Time: "On one hand, for centuries violence has been perpetrated against women, and it hasn't been necessarily visible to the general public. So the public is getting an opportunity now to see what does happen behind closed doors … On the other hand, I do believe it desensitises us after a while."

It is certainly true that alarms have been sounded about our societal desensitisation to domestic and sexual abuse in recent years, particularly in relation to its depiction in films and television shows such as The Fall, Ripper Street, The Killer Inside Me, Game of Thrones and many others. Several commentators have raised concerns about the glamorisation of violence against women, which is sometimes depicted in a titillating or dismissive manner.

But I wonder if it is this desensitisation that makes images such as those Mack shared so powerful, and enables them to start such a loud and important public conversation. There is no sexual titillation here, no Hollywood sheen. The brutal reality of the images Mack and other survivors have shared crashes through our stubborn tendency to distance ourselves from domestic abuse, to think of it as a problem far away, affecting people we will never see or meet. But its presence on your Twitter timeline or your Facebook newsfeed is uncomfortably close to home, and therefore much harder to dismiss. This is someone you've followed on Twitter. That's someone with whom you share 25 friends. These are real people.

This is what jolts people into awareness – an awareness that the abusive responses to Mack's tweet prove we still need desperately. For that, I am deeply grateful for the bravery of Christy Mack and other survivors like her.

Laura Bates: The reproductive cycle of a pea or a roll of sticky tape means very little to a young person thinking about sex and relationships for the first time. Why are so many children not being taught about consent or sexuality?

Laura Bates: Since I founded the Everyday Sexism Project, I have been writing about the abuses that women face: from catcalling to violence. With almost comforting regularity, the same criticisms appear below-the-line. Here is my reply